Sam W's guild on hooking your brother up before Xmas
by dragonpyre
Summary: The actual title is Sam Winchesters Guild On How To Get His Brother To Admit his Love For An Angel: Christmas Edition. It's a series of one-shots centered around the plot of Sam trying to hook his brother up with Cas by using Christmas themes. every chapter is based on a prompt. Basically one-shots but with plot? No smut, just fluff.
1. Prolauge

**AN: So this fic is a 25 day OTP challenge for Christmas, but instead of normal one-shots, mine has a general plot, but each chapter will focus on a specific holiday prompt of course like a one shot. Also, feel free to leave feedback. Enjoy!**

December first was the day that Sam had finely had enough. He was fed up with Dean and Castiel. He was sick of the intense eye-sex, the long stares, the hopeless pinning, the silent conversation, the way their eyes always seemed to migrate to the others lips, and not to mention to disregard for personal space. Sam was fed up with their queer undertones, and he was going to end it.

Of course, getting his brother to even admit feelings was a struggle in its own, admitting he was bi would take forever. But Sam was stubborn, and if he could get a one seventy-four on his LSAT's, he could get Dean and Cas to admit their feelings. Now all he needed was a plan.

Sam was eating a salad when the thought struck him. Christmas was coming up, one of the most romantic holidays of the year. He could easily see how he could just give his brother and Cas a push in the right direction at the right time to get them to see it. It was brilliant. That meant all the holiday and festive cheer. Spiked eggnog and cheesy rom-coms. He had never really been a fan of the season, but who could go wrong with mistletoe? A smirk lit up his face, making him duck his head to hide it from his brother, who was eating a burger.

"Hey Dean," he said. "I was thinking."

"Congratulations," Dean smirked. "That's a first." Sam rolled his eyes, ignoring his brothers' sarcasm.

"Anyways, it's almost Christmas, and I was thinking, maybe, we should celebrate for once," he said tentatively. He waited for Dean to shoot him down, glare at him, something. They didn't celebrate Christmas. Never really had. In fact, last time they did, Dean was on his way to Hell. Not exactly a fond memory for either of them.

"Why?" Was all he asked.

"I don't know, it just seems right, you know," Sam shrugged. "For once we don't have to deal with anything apocalyptic or world ending. We deserve a break." Of course it's not the whole truth, but Dean didn't need to know that, Sam thought.

"Okay," Dean said. "But how are we going to pull it off? We've never really done Christmas before." Sam shrugged. He hadn't thought that far ahead. But he would figure something out.

"Leave it to me," he said, watching his brother turn his back. A smile pulled at his lips. "I got this."


	2. Frost

They were on a werewolf hunt somewhere out in the boonies of a small town just north of Lebanon Kansas. Dean had found the case and had dragged them out there. They had found out what they were dealing with quickly and already had a suspect in mind. Which is why they were sitting out in the freezing cold at ass-o' clock in morning, waiting for a werewolf to show.

They were sitting out in the middle of the woods, laying on the ground on a small rise so they could see the cabin just beyond it. They couldn't be in their car because there were no roads to the cabin that they could access with the impala, much to Dean's displeasure. They'd had to hike out just to get a good vantage point. And there was one last thing they hadn't accounted for either, the cold.

The bothers were dressed in their usual garb of flannel jeans and a coat, while Cas was still in his trench coat and tie. Clearly the cold didn't bother him, being an angel and all, but it did look rather strange.

Sam shifted where he sat on the frozen ground, trying to get a better look at the cabin with his binoculars. The lights were off inside, so he couldn't see much, but he knew someone was in there, They had seen the person enter it not too long ago, and were just waiting to see if anything came out, specifically with claws and fangs.

"It is too damn cold to be doing this," he heard Dean mutter next to him. He shifted to get a look at his brother, who was appearing to try his hardest not shake uncontrollably, the clacking of his teeth giving it away.

"Maybe you should dress warmer next time," he offered.

"Yeah well, I didn't except to be sitting out in the cold without Baby now did I?" He countered. Sam shrugged unable to offer a solution. And that was when his eyes drifted over to Cas. The angel probably didn't even feel the cold, being an angel and all, so maybe he would be willing to help out? As soon as he thought of it, Sam fought to suppress the smirk that tried to work its way onto his face.

"Hey Cas, why don't you lend Dean your trench coat? I'm sure he needs it more than he cares to admit," Sam suggested. Cas look quizzically at him, tilting his head somewhat before nodding, seeing the logic in his statement.

"I don't see why not," the angel replied, starting to take his coat off.

"Oh, no Cas, you really don't need to," Dean rushed. "I'm fine." But even as he said it his lips were somewhat tinged blue, making his statement false.

"It's really no trouble Dean," the angel insisted. "I have no need for it."

"I'm fine, really," Dean lied, trying to stop his teeth from clacking together. Cas ignored him and threw the coat on top of him, making Dean's face turn beet red. Sam forced himself to suppress his laughter at his brothers' face, biting his tongue to keep himself in check.

A long moment of silence passed between the three, awkward and tense. Even though Sam wasn't sitting near him, he could feel the tension rolling off his brother. He decided to turn back to the case at hand, now that his work was done. After all, he was taking baby steps in this. His plan had only started. He had a whole month to do this.

"There," Cas said suddenly, pointing into the dark by the cabin. The lights were still off inside and he hadn't seen any of the doors open. Sam frowned and turned back to his binoculars, looking over in the direction that the angel had pointed. What he saw was an open window and footprints leading away from it in the frost.

"Werewolf," Dean stated stiffly.

"How can you be sure? Sam asked, still staring at the cabin.

All his brother said though was, "Turn around." Sam complied, albeit confused. But that changed when he turned and saw what his brother was talking about. Right behind them, teeth bared and blood dripped down its claws and mouth, was a werewolf.

It was somewhere in the wee hours of the morning when they managed to get back to the bunker. They had fought, and killed, the werewolf despite it having the element of surprise. It had taken all three of them, but they had managed to take it down. Sam had attacked first, lunging with his knife, but the werewolf had just thrown him aside and went after the other two. It had Dean pinned down after throwing Cas against a tree and into some bushes, successfully trapping him for a bit. Sam had gotten up and tried to kill it again but never got the chance because right before it had sunk its teeth into his brothers neck Cas had blasted the creator with his mojo, killing it on the spot. Of course this had resulted in almost 200 pounds of dead werewolf falling right on top of Dean, and a nearly unconscious angel. They had managed to drag him back to the car and he had woken up only ten minutes from the bunker. Now they were all going to their respective rooms, but apparently not before getting a chewing out from Dean.

"I told you Cas, I had it covered, you didn't have to use your mojo," Dean growled, walking down the stairs into the bunker.

"Of course I did Dean, it would have killed you," Cas argued, frowning at the hunter in disbelief.

"Yeah but I told you not to use your grace unless it was an emergency. Who knows what could have happened to you." They were now in the main room, all standing around the table, with Sam awkwardly looking back and forth between the two as they argued.

"I'm fine Dean," Cas stated. "I just exerted myself a little more than I thought I could. But we are all fine, there's no need to get so worked up."

"Worked up? You might have died, of course I'm gonna get worked up! And I could have handled myself!" Dean fought back.

"Dean-"

"No, ever since you got your grace back your mojo has been all wonky. I don't want to risk anything," Dean interrupted, not giving Cas the chance to speak.

"You guys fight like an old married couple," Sam cut in, glaring between the two of them. That shut them up for a moment. They both turned to look at him, Dean blinked vacantly while Cas just squinted in confusion. An awkward silence passed between the three. "Actually, you know," Sam said, picking up his duffle bag, which he'd left on the table. "I'm going to bed, 'night."

He left the room with a confused angel and stunned hunter behind him.


	3. Peppermint

**AN: Sorry if some of the chapters seem a little "eh", a few were rushed and might not be as good. Hoope you like them anyways. Enjoy!**

It was Sam's turn to buy groceries that week. They had run out of beer and cornflakes a few days ago, much to Dean's displeasure, and Sam had run out of apples and other organic food. They had been living off of leftovers and bagged baby carrots, which wasn't nearly enough. So Dean had tossed the impala's keys to Sam with the words "You get a scratch on her, I swear to God Sammy…" and had given him a shopping list. They took turns doing it anyways, and it was Sam turn. Although Dean did most of the shopping anyways, insisting that Sam would only buy "rabbit food", which was partially true, but today it wasn't.

Sam pulled into the parking lot of Walmart, killing the engine and exiting the car. It was surprisingly crowded that day, with cars taking up practically every parking space. Oh well, it was the Christmas season after all. Sighing, he started towards the store, grabbing a shopping cart once he was in.

Once he was inside, it was as if he had stepped into a Christmas festival, only with a lot more people and produce. Ever aisle had Christmas lights up, with special Christmas deal signs hung up all around the store. He could see a bunch of wreaths for sale a few aisles down. But that wasn't what he was here for, he was getting food.

It wasn't hard to find everything. The produce section yielded all his favorites, and the frozen meal section had all the steaks and burgers he knew Dean would eat. After picking up some cereal brands and the dairy, he made his way to the cash register.

He was waiting in line for the cashier when he saw a young couple standing across the aisle in the candy section. They seemed to be browsing for something specific. The boy kept showing certain sweets to the girl, but he just shook her head, her expression pensive and calculating.

"No, no, no," he heard her say. "It has to be peppermint. That's what the recipe calls for."

"I'm sure that anything else would work fine too," he suggested, exasperated.

"Yeah but peppermint is more romantic," she whined. "Besides, would you rather kiss me with my mouth tasting like peppermint, or like a jolly rancher?" she teased, giving him a sly smile. The both just shook his head, unable to contain his smile.

"Fine, we can smash up a candy cane and make the bark with that," he said. She smiled brightly, standing up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Great idea."

Sam smiled. Watching the couple was almost refreshing. He had forgotten what it was like, to love someone like that, to be able to tease someone like that. Which reminded him…

"Sir, are you ready to pay?"

The cashier pulled him from his thoughts, dragging his attention back to the present. "What, oh, yeah," he muttered, pulling out his wallet. He was about to slide his card to pay when the bucket of candy canes caught his eye. It was normal for stores to be selling them at the register, he had never thought about it before. But after over hearing the couple talking about peppermint, he had an idea.

"Can you uh, can you add three of those candy canes to my purchase, please," he asked. The women nodded, typing something into her computer.

"Okay, will that be all?"

"Yep," he smiled, grabbing his groceries. "Thank you."

"What's with the candy canes?" Dean asked, looking through the grocery bags. They were in the kitchen, where Sam was putting them away in their respective places. Dean had come in to scope out the loot and make sure nothing was amiss and had found the candies that way.  
"Oh, I saw them at the store and figured, why not buy some. It is Christmas after all," Sam explained casually. Really he had bought them for Dean and Cas, seeing as the angel had never tried a candy cane before and Dean hadn't had one in forever.

"You hate candy canes," he deadpanned. Oh yeah, that.

"Tastes change," he shrugged. "And apparently they're the most romantic candy of the season. So, can't blame a guy for trying," he lied.

"I thought that was chocolate," Dean said, confused.

"No." Sam shook his head. "Defiantly candy canes."

Dean stared at him for a few moments, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Sure." He said. "Whatever."

He was about to leave, walking towards the doorway when Sam said, "I bought one for Cas too, if you want to give it to him. I'm sure he's never had one before."

Dean stopped, thinking about what Sam had said. "Yeah, I'll do that. The guy needs to experience a little Christmas after all." Without further words, dean grabbed the extra candy cane and left the kitchen, leaving Sam with a triumphant smirk and a bag of tomatoes in his hand. This plan was going well, and it was only the second day.


	4. Snow

The first snowfall. Something that almost every kid looks forward to during Christmas. To frolic in it, throw snowball, make snow men, and miss school. Of course, when you grow up that excitement fades away, because you don't get a day off from work if it snowed, and you don't have time to play outside. In time it just becomes a hassle, having to get snow tires for your car, put on chains for the car, hope the ceiling won't start dripping water because the damn snow won't melt. But when you live in a bunker with no real obligations, it's fine. Or at least, that was how Sam thought of it.

"I swear, this snow better melt soon or I'm gonna shoot somebody." Dean had been spewing threats like that since he had tried to leave the bunker this morning, only to find that there was almost two feet of snow outside, blocking the exit.

"Dean, I'm sure whatever it is you need to go, it can wait," Sam sighed, nose buried in a book.

"It really can't," he growled under his breath, starting to pace.

"And what's so important that you HAVE to leave the bunker now?" he asked, finely looking up at his brother. Dean just shrugged, obviously evading the question.

"Personal stuff," was all he said. Sam raised an eyebrow skeptically, making Dean's face redder.

"Whatever man," Sam sighed, letting it drop before turning back to his book.

"What were you two talking about?" Cas asked, having just walked into the library.

"Nothing," Dean said a little to quickly.

"Dean was complaining about the snow blocking his car," Sam supplied.

"We could shovel it out of the way," Cas suggested. "That is something people do, yes?" He asked, uncertain.

"Yeah, but Cas," Dean started. "Snow's like two feet thick. It would take forever."

"Well, I know there are like four snow shovels in the garage, and there are three of us," Sam noted. "So, we could do it."

They all looked around at each other, seeming to be in agreement.

"Great, I'll get my coat," Dean said, walking off.

The snow was very, very thick. Dean hadn't been exaggerating. It was a little wet too, making it perfect for packing, but not for shoveling. The three had been at it for thirty minutes, and had made about five feet of the road clear of snow. Sam's back ached from shoveling, and his fingers and toes were wet and numb. Why on earth did he think they could do this?

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, out of breath. "I don't think this was a very good idea."

"Agreed," Sam panted, wiping some snowflakes off his face. "How about we just wait for it to melt next time?"

"Good idea." After that, the three of them took a break. Cas of ourse didn't need it, but Dean insisted that he sit with them in the snow bank they had created. The angel obliged and plopped down next to the older hunter. They sat there for a good few minutes before Sam decided to stretch his legs and walk around a bit, tired of sitting and bending his back.

He left the two in the small ditch, wandering aimlessly around the area. They technically lived in the woods, if you could call it that. They were next to an abandoned factory of some kind that sent massive shadows across the yard, and pine trees everywhere else. It all looked pretty in the snow though, almost peaceful.

Speaking of peaceful…

"Hey Sam!"

Sam turned to see why Dean had yelled, and instead was met with a solid cold SPLAT.

"AGH!" The snowball Dean had just thrown dripped down his face, freezing.

He hurriedly wiped the cold wet snow off his face, slightly pissed. "What the Hell Dean!" He shouted, looking up at his brother, who was doubled over from laughing.

"The look on your face," he wheezed, trying to regain his breath. "Oh man."

Sam glowered, wiping off the excess snow that had stayed on his face. Dean was still laughing, not paying attention to him. Taking advantage of that, Sam bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it in hard, making a perfect snowball. He stood up and threw it with all his force at the other hunter. It hit hi square in the forehead.

"OW! The Hell Sam?"

"Pay back!" he shouted back.

"You're like an eight year old, I swear," Dean grumbled.

"Dean, you did throw the first snowball," Cas interjected pointedly.

Dean frowned and looked over at the angel, almost glaring. "Thank you," he deadpanned. "Very helpful."

While Dean was talking with Cas, Sam had made another snowball, and had aimed loosely at Dean. Instead, it hit Cas. The angel looked up at him, a look of near betrayal on his face. Dean took advantage of the situation and quickly scrapped together a snowball, shouting, "Free for all!" before throwing it at Sam.

Sam ducked, landing in the snow. He grabbed some more snow and threw it in Dean's direction. Dean, in turn, tried to bat it away while grabbing some snow for himself. Cas, completely confused at the events that had just transpired, grabbed some snow and threw it without packing it into any shape. It landed in the snow near Dean.

"I call for teams!" Sam shouted.

"I get Cas!" Dean shouted instantly.

'Thought you would,' Sam thought to himself, forcing down his victory smirk.

Sam ducked behind a tree when the two started throwing more snowballs at him, allowing him time to make some of his own. He peaked out from behind it and threw the snow, ducking behind it before he could be hit. He heard a SPLAT sound followed Dean swearing.

"Come out from there you coward!" Dean shouted

Sam laughed, running out from behind the tree, firing loosely aimed snowballs while Dean tried to pelt him and Cas fumbled with his own. Dean bent down to try and collect more snow, but it was the exact moment when Cas decided to run to the other side of him to get away from Sam, and they collided in the middle.

The two went down like a Jenga tower, Cas slipping over Dean and Dean falling on top of Cas like a game of twister gone wrong. Then silence.

Everyone was breathing heavily, both from running and shouting. Sam had stopped where he was, watching the two curiously. He ran a hand through his hair to tame it. But Cas and Dean didn't move. Their faces were inches apart, both of their eyes looking either into the others or at the others lips. Sam couldn't quite tell.

Then Dean noticed he was still standing there, and his face turned beet red. He quickly scrambled off Cas, muttered apologies and trying to help the angel up.

Once he was standing, Dean saw Sam's lopsided smile. His eyes widened in realization of what Sam had done, then narrowed threateningly. The only thing Sam did however was laugh.

"Shut up."

He only laughed harder.

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if some of these are a bit "eh", they were partially rushed. But feel free to leave feedback!**


	5. Ginger Bread

Dean was alone in the bunker for the first time in weeks. And it was weird. Cas had gone off to get something from the store, being the only who could leave the bunker and not freeze to death with all the snow piled up, and Sam had decided to work on the road a little bit. Dean had opted out, decided to find them a case. Really it was just an excuse not to work on the road, seeing as how last time Sam had been a little shit about it and made him fall on top of Cas. Well, it was partially his fault. Okay, mostly his fault, but that was beside the point.

He had spent about an hour actually looking for a case, and had soon given up when he found jack. So he had decided to highjack Sam's TV for a bit and watch some trash TV. The first channel he flicked to was some boring soup opera. The next was weather (snow, snow, snow, followed by, wait for it, MORE SNOW). And after more mind numbing channel surfing, he finely settled on a Martha Stewart channel. It was nothing special, just another one of those episodes where she makes an impossibly recipe look incredibly easy. This time is was ginger bread houses.

Dean was only half watching as he sat on Sam's bed. Mostly he was mulling over what had happened yesterday, when he had slipped and fallen on Cas. They way the angels' cheeks seemed glowing from being flushed, the way his eyes had stared into his, his lips parting slightly and mist escaping as he breathed. It was almost like they were the only two in the world, and everything sort of disappeared. And then he'd heard Sam give a little chuckle, involuntary or not, and reality came crashing down on him.

After it had happened, Dean realized just how odd that scenario had been. Most guys don't do that with their friend. But then again, he and Cas had been through a lot together, whether it be purgatory, the apocalypse, or what have you. Hell, they'd seen each other NAKED before. But they were just friends. Always had been, always will be.

Right?

Of course there was that nagging little voice in the back of his head. He couldn't deny maybe he did want something more, weather from Cas or not he didn't know. And like a rock in his stomach, it didn't sit well with him.

"And that's how you make a ginger bread house," Martha Stewarts voice announced, interrupting his brooding. He looked up curiously to see the woman had decorated something that resembled more of a mansion than a house. Flawlessly, of course. That made him think, what with Sam wanting to do Christmas and all, maybe he would want one of these too. He thought about it for a second before making up his mind and pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Cas' number. The angel picked up after the second ring.

 _"Hello Dean,"_ the angel said.

"Hey Cas, I was wondering, you still in town?" He asked.

 _"Yes, why? Is there something else you would like me to get?"_

"Yeah, actually," he started. "Would you mind getting a ginger bread house from the grocery store? The ones that come in a box that you have to assemble. You know what I'm talking about?"

 _"Yes, I believe so. But, why?"_ He asked. Dean could almost hear the head tilt through the line. He smiled warmly at the thought.

"Just thinking that Sam would want one or something. That we could, I don't know, surprise him or something," he said, shrugging. Not that Cas could see it though.

 _"I think that's a good idea,"_ he conceded. _"I'll see what I can find."_

"Hey, thanks buddy," he said.

 _"Of course."_ And the line went dead.

Dean took his phone away from his ear, pressed the END button on the screen, and stuffed it back in his pocket.

The show then went to a commercial break, leaving him to his thoughts again, which soon drifted back to Cas. He wasn't gay for him, was he? He liked girls, period. They were hot, and sexy, and awesome. But Cas was, Cas. With his deep gravelly voice, black sex-hair, and chiseled jaw. It was no wonder everyone kept saying he was hot. But no, he was not gay for Cas. You either were, or you weren't, and Dean defiantly wasn't gay. Of that he could be sure.

Cas returned some time later laden with bags of car parts and a ginger bread house assembly kit. Dean had asked him to get the car parts at the local auto shop in town because neither he nor Sam could make the trip. Cas had happily obliged. But they had other things to do at the moment, like make a ginger bread house. It couldn't be too hard.

"Do you have any idea how to make one of these?" Cas asked as soon as they had set up a workspace to make it in the kitchen.

"Not a clue," Dean said flatly. "But hey, how hard can it be?"

Apparently, very.

The icing wouldn't glue the house together and they kept adding layers and layers of it trying to compensate, but to no avail. The house fell apart twice while standing, and Cas almost broke one of the ginger bread slabs. They ended up using superglue for the corners and planning to make sure no one would eat those parts. Dean had already eaten half of the candy by the time they actually started to decorate the house. Cas then insisted that it needed more "snow" and proceeded to raid the pantry for either coconut shavings or powdered sugar. Dean didn't think they had either and resolved to go and buy some later.

And then they were done.

"It looks…" Cas tried, tilting his head, trying to think of an appropriate word.

"Shitty-"

"Interesting," Cas said, cutting Dean off.

To be frank, it did look interesting, not in a good way though. It was leaning slightly to the left, and the icing was completely uneven. The icicles they had tried to add to the roof had mostly fallen off, and the patterns were all crooked and wonky. There were bits of icing all over it, smeared from a hand or blobbed from dropping it on the ginger bread. They had made it on a plate, because it was the only thing they could really put it on, and the plate itself was messy. Bits of icing, crumbs, and candy littered it like leaves in the fall, giving it a messy look. But over all, it wasn't horrible. Most of the things could be easily overlook anyway, and Dean could eat the pieces that had fallen off anyway. So over all, not bad.

"Well, as long as Sam likes it," Dean sighed.

"What should I like?"

Dean and Cas looked up to see Sam standing in the doorway, face red and hands white from being out in the snow.

"Oh, uh," Dean started. "Cas and I made a ginger bread house. Thought you'd like it or something," he said, rambling a little at the end.

"Oh, cool." He walked down the steps and into the room to get a better look. He made an "impressed" face before saying, "Not bad. I didn't think you had it in you, Dean."

"What are you talking about? I watch food network," he said defensively. Sam raised an eyebrow. "You know, when there's nothing better on," he backtracked.

"Sure," Sam said, almost smirking. "But yeah, it's good. Good job guys."

Dean felt a little bit of pride swell in his chest at the praise. But he didn't let it show on his face.

"So are we actually going to eat this thing?" Sam asked in feign disgust. "Because, well…" Instead of a reply, Dean shot him a bitch face while Cas squinted his eyes in confusion.

"Bitch,"

"Jerk."


	6. Christmas Tree

Christmas trees were a pagan tradition, starting in Germany in the 16th century to symbolize life in the dead of winter, and then made universal via the Christians because the triangular shape symbolized the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, the ultimate symbol for the religous holiday, or so they said. Sam had looked it up. Dean however thought of them only as stakes to kill pagan gods. But Sam insisted they have one in the bunker, although how they were getting one was a mystery. None of them knew the first thing about getting a Christmas tree. They had seen movies sure, and had stolen, but never bought.

Sam proposed the idea of going out to find one, where they could buy it and chop it down. So, after gathering their things, they got into the impala and drove to the nearest tree lot.

"I don't know man, they all look the same," Dean said, trying to keep warm in chilly December air. He had brought his warmest outfit today, but it still didn't seem enough to stop the winter air from practically giving him frostbite.

Sam sighed at his brother's ignorance. Of course the trees didn't all look the same! There were Douglass Firs, Blue Spruces, and Hemlocks, all very different species. Sam huffed in frustration. Ignoring Sam's bitch-face, Dean walked around the lot, eyeing each tree, his gaze looking them over with intense scrutiny.

"How about this one?" Dean called from across the lot. Sam looked at what Dean had picked, grimacing. The tree had needles blanketing the snow around the base, brown and dead. The front had a wide open space and the top was crooked.

"How about no," Sam offered. "Remember Dean, the point is to find something living." He stressed the last word just in case Dean didn't catch it.

"Whatever," Dean grumbled, turning away from the tree. Sam watched as he walked around the lot a little bit, eyeing each tree, trying to find a good one. Sam had decided to stay out of the whole affair, letting Dean and Cas do all the work, he himself being the final judge.

The lot they were in was one of those, saw-your-own-tree types, the land covering almost two acres. He had convinced Cas to wear normal people clothes, so he was wearing one of Dean's jackets and a scarf. Over all he looked like he could pass as a human, except for the standing awkwardly and sniffing each tree. Now he was tailing Dean like a dog.

"Dean," the angel said. "What about this one?" He pointed to a little tree that was just over two feet tall.

"Yeah, no way Charlie Brown," Dean dismissed. Cas only frowned, not understanding the reference.

"How about this?" Dean asked, gesturing to a slender tree. Sam scrunched up his face in distain.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam only shook his head, not even bothering to explain why it was a no-go. Luckily, he was saved by a lot manager coming up to them.

"Can I help you gentlemen at all?" She asked, smiled brightly. Sam made a point to step a few feet back, making it look like it was just Dean and Cas picking out a tree.

"Uh," Dean managed.

"Yes," Cas answered quickly. "We seem to require assistance." Very subtle Cas, very subtle. The woman smiled kindly, sympathetic of the fact that the two men obviously had no idea what they were doing.

"What are you looking for?" She inquired. A look of mild panic flitted over Cas' face as he heard it. He looked over to Dean expectantly. After all, the hunter had much more experience with this sort of stuff than he did.

"Something…" Dean struggled to find the word. "Big?"

"Well, we have some older trees down that way," she offered, pointing in a general direction towards the end of the lot, where the trees seemed to be bigger.

"Thank you," Cas said kindly, about to lead Dean off.

"First time picking a tree together?" She asked, stopping them in their tracks.

"Um, wha-" Dean started, but was cut off by the saleswomen.

"I mean, as a couple, is it your fist time?"

Dean and Cas exchanged a confused look before turning back to her. "Um, we're not," Dean started awkwardly, but couldn't seem to find the right words and ended up babbling gibberish before the woman spoke again.

"Oh, no, it's fine. I don't judge. I just figured because you guys looked so lost. It's really fine. Every couple goes through the same thing," she said, offering them a smile. "But yeah, the bigger trees are probably going to be down there somewhere." She pointed again to the trees at the end of the lot. "I hope you find what you're looking for," she added, walking off towards Sam's direction.

Sam watched gleefully as Dean and Cas walked off to the section of trees, one looking bewildered and uncomfortable while the other looked confused. Sam had forced himself to restrain his laughter the entire time, but at least someone else had seen it too, that Dean and Cas weren't just friends. It was far too obvious to miss anyways.

"Can I help you sir?" He heard someone ask, disrupting his thoughts.

"What?" he asked, looking down to see the same saleswoman who was just talking with Dean and Cas looking up at him. "Oh, no. I'm with those two," he said, gesturing vaguely to his brother and accomplice.

"Oh, the flustered couple," she said smugly. "They seem sweet," she offered. Sam smiled. Yeah, they kind of were. If not oblivious.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"How long have they been together?" She asked, intrigued. "Because they still seem kind of," she paused looking for the right word. "Awkward, I guess."

How long had they been together, Sam wondered. It was a good question. Since Cas pulled his brother out of Hell? If so, then five or so years. When Cas fell from heaven for Dean? More like four years. Or was it when Dean spent a year in Purgatory looking for Cas? Then the answer would be two or so years.

"Honestly," he said. "They've been friends for so long, I don't even really know when they figured it out," he admitted, shrugging. If only they had figured it out, though. His brother still had his head stuck in his ass, while the angel was completely clueless. But Sam suspected he knew something.

"Hey Sam!" He heard Dean shout from across the lot. "How about this one?" Sam made his way over to where his brother and Cas were looking at a decently sized blue spruce tree that actually looked pretty good.

"Yeah, I like it," he said, inspecting it.

"Cas picked it," Dean said absently.

"Well," Sam said. "Good choice man."

"Thank you," the angel said.

"Alright," Dean said, clapping his hands together, almost excited. "Who brought the saw?"

Saw?

"Um…"

Well, this was going to be interesting.


	7. Decorations

It was another lazy day in the bunker. Sam was reading one of his books in the library, Cas was watching Netflix in Sam's room, and Dean had decided to join him half way through an episode of CSI. Over all, nothing overly interesting was happening. So Dean pulled out his phone.

Cas noticed and looked over, frowning. "Is this show not interesting you? If so I can find another-"

"No, Cas, it's fine. I'm just looking for a case. Can't stay cooped up in this place forever," Dean said in reassurance.

Cas frowned in confusion. "We just went out and bought a tree yesterday. I wouldn't call 24 hours 'forever'."

Why had Dean been stuck with the most literal angel in heaven? He sighed, as if defeated. "It's not- I didn't-" he tried. "You know what, never mind," he said, dropping the subject. He turned back to his phone before Cas could speak again. As predicted, Cas just closed his mouth, eyebrows still scrunched up in confusion, and turned back to the TV.

Dean looked through his phone some more before finding a possible case. He looked through the description, and the more he read, the more convinced it was a case, or someone had an extreme psychotic break. Oh well, it could wait some more, he didn't really feel like moving at the moment. Not that that had anything to do with the fact that he and Cas were pretty much pressed against each other. Or that Cas smelled like dark roast coffee and honey, an interesting, but good, combination. Or rather, that was what he told himself.

The episode was over soon enough, leaving them with title credits and silence.

"So, did you find a case?" Cas asked, turning to look at him.

"What?" Dean asked, startled by the sudden noise. He turned to face Cas, almost forgetting what he was going to say when he saw Cas's intense blue eyes fixed on his."Oh, yeah. I'm gonna talk with Sam about it, see if it's worth the trouble," he managed.

"I'm assuming you want me to come with?" It was more of a statement than a question. Either way it was true.

"Course, if you're feeling up to it that is," Dean said, referring to how the last hunt the angel went on resulted in him passing out for a few hours from using his grace. Dean didn't want another episode like that, and he wanted to make sure Cas was really feeling up to it. He didn't want to pressure him into anything.

"I'm fine, Dean," he said, reading between the lines. "I'll try not to use my grace."

"No, I want you to promise not to," Dean demanded.

"Dean-"

"Promise."

Cas let out a deflated sigh, looking off in the other direction. "Fine, I won't use my grace. Happy?" he deadpanned.

"Very."

The lapsed back into silence, Cas turning back to the TV, which had started playing the next episode, but Dean was still looking at Cas. After a few moments Cas spoke up again.

"Aren't you going to talk to Sam about it?"

About what? Oh right, the case. "Yeah, I'll go do that," he said, standing up.

As soon as he did, he immediately felt cold on the side that had been pressed up against Cas, and almost a little empty, like he was missing something. Whatever, he had other things on his mind. He walked out of the room and towards the library to look for Sam.

Where he had expected to see Sam reading a book, instead he found him hauling a box towards the library. "What's in the box?" Dean asked, curious.

"Oh, Christmas lights," Sam said, looking up. "Figured, why not. Everyone does it at their house."

"Yeah, because they have a HOUSE. We live in a BUNKER," Dean stated. "If you haven't noticed, that is."

"Ha ha," Sam retorted, rolling his eyes. He set down the box of lights next to two other boxes, which both were open with wires and bulbs spilling out.

"Wow, you're really going all out aren't you," he noted, looking them over.

"I was actually hoping you and Cas could help me set them up around the bunker. If you don't mind, anyway," he said, giving Dean a half-asses puppy dog look. Well, Dean wasn't really interested in decorating, but maybe Cas would be…

"I'll ask," he said.

"Great, I'll just start unpacking then," Sam smiled, watching as his brother went to retrieve the angel. Dean's only response was a nod before he disappeared around the corner to look for Cas.

Cas had been thrilled when Dean had asked him to help decorate, but, as they soon found out, terrible at it. He had no sense of space, color, or lighting when it came to decorating. Dean had had to step in and stop him before it was too late. He had been stringing lights and garland in random places, throwing them half-hazerdly around the walls and ceiling before plugging them in. It resembled a spider web that was made when said spider was drunk, but with more color and Christmas. But before he could string up the stairs railing, Dean had stepped in and taken over.

After that, they decided to all do certain tasks. Sam would string the lights, seeing as he was the tallest and could reach the higher spots, Cas would check the bulbs in case one of them was burned out, and Dean would put up the garland and other things around the bunker, like the wreath Sam had bought ("No Dean, it doesn't have meadowsweet in it"), and some other little things.

After about forty minutes of decorating, Dean heard a groan from down the hall. Looking up from where he had been putting up some Christmas streamers (apparently they were a thing), he started down the hall. By the library doorway, he spotted Cas, tangled hopelessly up in lights. The sight was defiantly comical, with the angel's face beet red and his heir messed up from trying to get out of it. But Dean didn't laugh, not outwardly anyway.

"How the Hell," he drawled. Cas turned to him at his words, face flushing even redder now that someone had seen. "You had the easiest job, how do you screw it up so bad?"

Dean had reached him now, looking him up and down in amusement. "Don't ask," he said, his voice gravely and annoyed. "Just help me get out."

Dean smirked, trying to suppress his smile as he helped the poor angel out. He had somehow gotten the lights around his legs, torso, arms, and had managed to tie a half hitch knot around his feet. It was impressive really. But damn hard to undue.

"Dean, uh, this is getting awkward," he said, trying not to squirm as Dean reached under his legs to unwrap part of it.

"Just hold still, Cas," he said absently, moving up his body, still untangling him, but staying extremely close.

"Dean." He was now reaching around the man's torso, practically hugging him. "Uh, Dean." Literally hugging him from behind now, struggling to undue a knot. But Cas was rigged as a board through it all, and that was how Sam found them when he walked in.

"Hey Cas, do you have the- WOAH, what happened?" Sam asked, stopping in his tracks and staring at the two of them, confounded. Dean pulled away from Cas immediately, leaving Cas to stand there awkwardly with Christmas lights tangled on him.

"I swear, it was not what it looks like," Dean started, voice low and serious.

"It looks like you were untangling Cas," Sam started. "Why, what did you think it looked like?" He lied. Of course he really knew, he wasn't blind. But he wasn't going to hang it over his brother, because that would only get him set back in his plan.

"Nothing," Dean drawled.

Silence.

"Um, guys, a little help please."

Oh, right, Cas.

"Yeah, coming."

They were done, and the bunker looked great. Of course Dean didn't really care much for it, but he had to admit it did look pretty good. Sam had gone up and down, inspecting every bit of their work, nodded his approval for the majority of it.

"Great, place looks great," Sam said, looking around.

"So, we done then?" Dean asked, eager to get out of the bunker.

"I guess, why?"

"Because," Dean said, pulling out his phone and bring up the news article he'd found earlier. "I found us a case."

"Where?" Sam asked.

"New York," he said, showing him the computer screen. The monitor showed a picture of a headline from the New York Times, the headline reading MAN KILLS FAMILY BEFORE TAKING HIS OWN LIFE. Sam frowned, glancing through the article. "And that's not the only one. There were two this month and a few last month."

"So you believe it's some sort of demon possibly?" Cas interjected, looking over Sam's shoulder. "Like possession?"

"Possibly," Sam said. "Might as well check it out, looks like a case. You coming?" He asked, directing the last sentence at Cas. The angel glanced at Dean for a moment as if checking to see if the older hunter would be okay with it before nodding.

"Alright," Dean sighed, taking his laptop back. "Then let's get packed. We're going to the big apple."


	8. Hot Chocolate

The rolled out of the motel the next morning, getting up at around six and continuing their long trek to New York. Sam decided to pass out in the back seat for a bit and let Cas have the passenger seat while Dean drove. He woke up somewhere in Indiana around noon, when Dean decided to stop for lunch. As per usual, Cas declined any sustenance, while dean got a burger and Sam a salad. They continued to drive on into Ohio, still on schedule. It wasn't until they hit Pennsylvania that they hit real trouble. It had started snowing somewhere back in Ohio, but it hadn't been bad, just some flakes drifting through the air. But it had soon become a full blown blizzard.

The impala's wipers were on high, with the headlights straining to cut through the white storm, but with little success. It was around 9:00, and they were only three hours out, but road conditions were becoming increasingly more dangerous, making it a risk to even be on the road.

"Dean," Sam started, glancing worryingly at the road in front of them, or at least, what he could see of it. "I think we should pull off somewhere."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing," he said, frowning.

"There's a motel in a few miles," Cas suggested. "There was a sign advertising one a few miles ago."

"Thanks Cas," Dean said absently, focusing hard on driving. A few minutes later, they were pulling into a crowded parking lot, just managing to squeeze into the last available parking space. Dean put the car into park and switched off the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition. "Alright, let's get going."

They all got out of the car, rushing to get their luggage and get inside and out of the cold. Cas was waiting at the door, holding it open for them. Of course, he wasn't fazed by the wind or the temperature, what with being an angel and all. Lucky bastard.

Sam and dean rushed into the motel, hurrying to close the door to keep the wind out.

"Man, it's freezing out there," a voce commented behind them. They turned to see the desk attendant desperately rubbing her bare arms to get warm.

"Yeah, try driving in it," Dean agreed, moving towards the desk. The teen only made an exasperated face, daunted by the prospect. The two brothers set their luggage down while Cas stood in the background, waiting for them to sign in.

"Sounds rough," she muttered. "So you planning on staying the night then?" She asked, looking between the three.

"Yeah," Dean said, pulling out his wallet. "Two rooms-"

"One room," Sam interrupted. "Two queens, please." The girl nodded, pulling out the proper paperwork for them to sign. While she was doing that, Dean gave Sam a side glare, but refrained from speaking. Sam had force his smirk down, biting his lip to do so.

"Alright," the girl said, giving Dean the papers to sign. "Cash or credit?"

"You take visa?"

"Yep."

He handed over the credit card, signing his name on the line. After she swiped his credit card, she handed over a key. "Room 180, but you'll have to go outside to get there," she said, grimacing in sympathy.

Sam forced a smile anyways, just as he hoped Dean did too. They left to get their bags from the trunk and then to find their room. Unfortunately the room was on the top floor of the outside, so not only did they have to walk outside in the blizzard, but up an open stairwell as well. Over all, it was not fun for any of them (Cas included). Then they finally reached their door, which Sam opened to let all three of them inside.

"Ah, home at last," Dean said, dropping his duffel unceremoniously on the floor before dropping onto one of the beds. And then the power went out.

There was a long moment of silence. Then,

"DAMN IT!"

The power had gone out, and with that, heating, water, and everything else people never gave a second thought to that were now luxuries in the middle of a snow storm. So people had gathered in the main lobby, the only place that had a fire place, and in turn, heat. People were wearing blankets from their rooms and their coats and basically anything to keep warm. Not long after the power had gone out the heat had vanished entirely, so everyone had migrated towards the lobby to complain. But instead it had somehow turned into a little party, with someone playing their guitar-some Christmas song-and boiling hot water for hot coco over a the fire in the fireplace. The gang had joined not long after people had started coming in, and had helped the poor desk clerk sort everything out (the poor girl looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack).

So there they sat, listening to Christmas songs while keeping themselves warm with coco and blankets, and trying to keep their spirits up in the dreary situation.

"You know," Dean said. "When I said 'let's head to New York', being stuck in a snowstorm with the power out wasn't really what I had in mind."

"Well complaining's not going to do anything," Sam said, taking a sip of his own coco. In truth he wished it was something with a little less sugar, but he was freezing, and it was the only thing available.

"Yeah, but it sure does make me feel better," Dean grumbled.

They resumed their silence, listening to people chatter around them. Cas had been getting more coco for Dean, so he was all the way across the room. At the moment he was talking to an elderly woman, smiling brightly as he spoke. Sam glanced back at dean, noticing how he was watching Cas as well, his expression softer. And, if Sam had to guess, almost wistful. He didn't want to ruin the moment though, so he refrained from speaking.

After a bit, Cas came back, carrying Dean's coco with him. "Here," he said, handing the hunter the mug.

He muttered a "thanks" before accepting it.

"I'm assuming this doesn't happen often," Cas said, referring to their current predicament.

"No, it doesn't," Sam said, letting out a dry laugh. "But it is something." What "something" was, he didn't know. But with everyone just converging to offer up a merry time with music and coco instead of complaining to the poor receptionist, it defiantly was something. Something merry.

"Well, whatever it is," Dean said. "It ain't too bad."

"Excuse me," Sam turned to see who had spoken, surprised to find that it was the desk clerk standing shyly behind them. "Is that seat taken, everywhere else is sort of full." She pointed to the small gap between the three of them where they sat on the bench.

"Yeah, no problem," Dean said, scooting closer to Cas to leave a space between him and Sam for her. She thanked him in a small voice and squeezed in next to them. She looked cold, wearing only a work polo and jeans. She was rubbing her arms, which were covered in goose bumps, to keep warm. Over all she just looked miserable, and it was completely understandable.

Dean glanced at the cup of coco in his hand, than back up to the girl. Finely, he made his decision. "Here," he said, holding the cup out to the girl. She looked up at him, perplexed. "You look like you need it more than I do. Besides, I haven't drunk out of it anyway."

"Thanks," she said, accepting it before taking a cautious sip. "It's just, my dad said not to trust strangers and such, you know."

"But he lets you run a motel?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"This is actually the first time I've done it," she admitted. "He's on a work trip. Most times it's just for the day, but this is my first night on my own. To be honest, I'm sort of scared." The last part was said into her cup as she looked down in what appeared to be shame. "I'm sorry," she said quickly, backtracking. "You don't know me, I'm just some teenager who's dumping all her problems on some strange guys she's just met and-" she would have continued to ramble if Dean hadn't stopped her.

"Whoa, hay," he said, holding up a hand to stop her. "It's not a problem. To tell you the truth, I completely understand. My dad left sometimes to go on work trips and leave me to take care of my stinking little brother. And you know what, I was scared then too. It's fine to be scared sometimes."

"Really?" She asked skeptically. "I'm sure you're brother wasn't as hard to manage as a motel full of guests."

"Well," Dean started, but stopped his train of thought when he saw Sam throw him a bitch face. "Probably not. But you'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. Promise. Now shut up and drink your coco, you look frozen."

The girl only gave a small chuckle, ducking her head again before sipping at the beverage. Sam noticed that just behind Dean, Cas was watching Dean with a mixture of admiration and pride, a faint smile pulling at his lips, his expression soft. Wow, did Cas have it bad for Dean. And damn if helping out a poor kid didn't seem to make Cas even more interested, if that was even possible. _'Well don't worry Cas,'_ Sam thought. _'You'll get together with Dean soon, I'll make sure of it.'_


	9. Ice Skating

They arrived in New York at around 11:00 in the morning, having stopped only for a quick gas stop and bathroom break after leaving their motel earlier that morning. They had helped out a lot there during their stay for the night, making sure the poor girl running it wasn't too overwhelmed by everything. In the end she had thanked them by giving them a discount for the room and a packed lunch consisting of three ham and cheese sandwiches and some fruit. They thanked her and were on their way.

And now they were fighting the city traffic while looking for a motel to crash at and a garage to keep the car.

"I hate cities," Dean grumbled as they were yet again caught in another red light. "Way too many people."

Sam only rolled his eyes, looking out his window at the city beyond. It was a grand sight to see, he had to admit. The last time they were there was over twenty years ago, and that had been with their dad. It hadn't been the greatest time, but it had still been pretty fun. Sam's mind started working on possible ways he could get Dean and Cas into more "romantic" situations together during their stay. Broadway was open, or maybe the Radio City Musical Hall. No way, Dean hated musical theater. Central park maybe? It was probably all lit up with Christmas lights, although that would be pretty out of the way for what they were doing.

The epiphany hit him when they were passing Rockefeller Center. An ice rink. Fucking brilliant. Dean had no idea how to ice skate, and maybe Cas did, but he highly doubted it. Maybe if he dragged them there… Yes. It should work. But he had to mull it over a bit more to finalize the plan before announcing anything to the two men. So instead, he sat back and enjoyed the sights while sitting in stop and go traffic.

"Well, that was fun, let's never do that again," Dean bit out, swinging the motel door open and throwing his duffel onto one of the beds. Sam followed suit, tossing his onto the other bed and shrugging his coat off.

"I didn't know it could take an hour just to travel ten blocks," Cas admitted, eyes wide in astonishment.

"Yeah well, that's city life for you," Dean sighed, taking his own coat off as well.

"Alright, I'll stay here at the motel and look into the case more," Sam said, eager to start working. "You two should go to the police station and find out what you can there."

Dean's shoulders sagged as he let out a long exasperated sigh. "Dude, we just got in. Can't we take a break for like, thirty minutes?"

"Fine, I'll go to the police station. You can research the case," Sam offered. He wanted to get this done as fast as possible so he could focus on other, more important, things. Like, for instance, the unresolved sexual tension that seemed to be crackling between his brother and a certain angel in the room. They were standing way to close to be casual, and Cas' eyes were mainly on Dean, so yeah, he wanted to solve that fast. And to do that, he had to continue with his plan, which didn't involve hunting.

"Okay," Dean agreed. "But Cas is staying here. I need some help with research."

"Sure." Sam wasn't even going to argue. "I'm going to get changed and then get out of here."

And he did just that.

The case was an odd one. The guy who had committed the crimes, a one Fredrick Stewart, had been a completely average guy one day, and the next, had murdered his entire family before killing himself. That by itself was enough to surmise that they were dealing with demonic possession, except for the fact that the family had also been robbed that same night. And there were no signs of forced entry or break in of any kind. Not even the surveillance tapes had caught anything. The other weird part was that Fredrick's body was found in the middle of Central Park, whereas his wife and kids had lived in the middle of Brooklyn. So going by those facts, it didn't seem likely that it was a demon. So what was it?

Whatever it was, he was sure they could figure it out later. He had been at the public library looking over records and whatnot trying to find a clue as to what they were dealing with. So far, nada. He had started looking into previous crimes that resembled this one when his phone started ringing.

"Hello," he said, answering it.

"Hey, it's me," the voice over the line said. It was Dean.

"Hey man, what'cha got?"

"Well, Cas and I were going over some old reports, trying to find something like this," he explained. Good thinking, saved Sam from having to do it.

"And?" He asked, eager to hear the rest of what Dean had to say.

"There were two other incidents before this one, exactly the same. But it was different families, different places, no reason to make the cops suspicious. I'm thinking it's the same thing though. Same MO and everything," Dean said, listing off the data.

"Yeah, sounds like a case alright," Sam postulated. "I'll meet up with you guys later. See you at the motel."

"See you soon." Dean hung up. Sam stuffed his phone back into his suit pocket and made his way out of the library and onto the freezing New York streets. It was well past night fall, and he was getting hungry. He would get Dean to buy something before proposing the idea of an ice rink. After all, dean was much more lenient with the offer of free food. Sam smiled to himself as he walked down the streets. He sure hoped his plan would work though.

"C'mon Dean, it'll be fun," Sam coaxed, holding out his brothers coat to him. Dean, who was lying on the motel bed, glared up at him.

"I'm a grown ass man Sammy, I don't go ice skating," he spat bitterly. Sam's shoulders slumped, his expression morphing into a full on bitch-face. He had bought their dinner on the way back to the motel and some Chinese place down the block, and then had proposed the idea. So far, it hadn't been well received.

"There are plenty of people older than you who ice skate," he countered stiffly.

"Yeah, and they're in their sixties! And I thought we were working a case, in case you forgot," Dean spat back. Sam sighed. This was going to be a rough argument to win, but he always found a way, what with being a pre-law major and all.

"Dean, we are in New York, might as well enjoy the season while we're here." Upon receiving no reaction, he added, "Plus, Cas said he wanted to go."

The change in Dean's expression was instantaneous. His eyes widened slightly, his face growing red. You wouldn't have seen it unless you were looking for it though. And Sam had been. Score.

"Cas said he wanted to go?" Dean inquired. Sam nodded, holding the coat out to Dean. He narrowed his eyes before accepting it grudgingly. Before he walked past him out the door, he growled, "For Cas, not you."

Sam smirked in triumph. He grabbed his scarf and pulled his coat on, heading out the door after Dean.

They went to the rink at Rockefeller center, with the huge skyscrapers surrounding it and a glistening Christmas tree watching over it. The general mood was very festive, with people laughing and figure skating and stumbling and over all having a good time. Sam could already feel the smile working itself onto his lips.

"Come on, let's go rent some skates," he said, walking over to the rental shop. Dean followed grudgingly, trailing behind Cas and Sam. Cas however, in harsh contrast, was watching the skaters curiously, seeming to be in awe of the spectacle. If Sam was being honest, he could have sworn he saw a small smile.

Alright," he said, stopping in front of the rental shop. "Shoe sized, go."

"10," Dean supplied.

"9, but I don't understand what that has to do with-"

"For the skates, Cas," Sam explained. "It's not much fun having skates that don't fit now is it?" He asked rhetorically.

"I wouldn't know," the angel deadpanned.

Sam sucked in an exasperated breath. "Right."

"So," Dean cut in, saving Sam from an awkward situation. "Skates." Sam nodded, back on track. He approached the rental shop and went in to get their skates, leaving Dean and Cas to follow. It wasn't ten minutes later before they were all laces up and ready to go on the ice.

Sam hadn't really been skating before now, so trying to figure out how exactly to do it was an experience. He clung to the railing at the edge of the ring for the first few, albeit slow, laps. And when he had figured it out, he glided smoothly across the frozen surface with little trouble. Dean however, had not. He kept catching the teeth of his skates on the ice, and every few steps he seemed to unbalance himself and almost fall over. And he was beet red all over from embarrassment. He probably looked like a fool to everyone else. Now he was clinging to the rail on the side of the rink as he tried to make his way around it, shooting glares every so often at his brother.

Sam pulled up to Dean after about ten minutes of watching him look like an idiot. "Having fun?" He asked with a smirk.

"Bite me," Dean shot back.

"Hey, if you're having trouble, you could just sit out," he offered nonchalantly. Dean's eyes flew over to somewhere else in the rink. Sam looked where and found it to be Cas (surprise surprise) before his face tinged red, as if he was a school boy who didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his crush.

"No, I'm uh, I'm good," he said, ducking his head slightly in embarrassment.

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Sam, I'm sure," Dean spat. "Now go do your skating thing and let me look like an idiot in peace." He made shooing motions with his hands before he had to go back to griping the rail again. Sam shrugged before skating away, leaving his brother on his own again. Of course, that wasn't quite true because he saw Cas coming up from his peripherals before he had.

Cas was a great skater, somehow. Once he had gotten the hang of it he had gone around the rink more times than both of the brothers had combined. Probably because he had such good motor skills. At least that was what Sam figured. But for whatever reason, he was good. And that made Dean feel embarrassed.

"Hello Dean," the angel said as he came to a stop next to the hunter.

"Hey Cas," he replied stiffly.

Cas, noticing his tone, frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, why would something be wrong?" Dean asked, rambling slightly.

"Well, you seem quite tense when you should be relaxing and enjoying yourself," he stated, as if it was obvious.

"This coming from the guy that can do figure 8's after only fifteen minutes," Dean muttered. Cas heard it anyways, but frowned when he didn't understand. Dean sighed, realizing that Cas wasn't about to let it go and leave him be. "I can't skate," he admitted. He looked at the ground, ready to hear Cas scoff or laugh, or something. But that wasn't what came out of the angels mouth.

"In what way are you having trouble?" He asked.

Dean was partially startled by the question, but shrugged anyway. "I don't know, all of it?"

"Then let me help you," he offered, sticking out his hand. Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced down at it. Was he being serious? Did he really expect him to hold his hand and go skating around the rink with him like a love struck moron? Another look at Cas' face confirmed his thoughts. Yes, he did.

Grudgingly, Dean grabbed his hand tightly in his, launching away from the rail as he did. Now he was out in the open, with Cas. At first, Dean expected Cas to get annoyed with his pace, maybe even frustrated. But that was not the case. He was patient with him and helped couch him on proper technique and form, telling him how he should balance his weight and move his feet. Soon enough, Dean was gliding across the ice with little to no trouble at all. Then he and Cas picked up the pace, and soon enough two hours had gone by without him even noticing. And not once had he let go of Cas' hand.


	10. Fireplace

They rose early the next morning, determined to finish up the case. They still didn't know what they were dealing with, but they had narrowed it down to a few things. Sam had gone to the police station under the guise of an FBI agent to see if he could find more about the other cases they had found while Dean and Cas went around to the victims friends and family to find out more of what happened. So far, they knew that all the murders were sudden and unexpected. None of the families' mothers or fathers was acting weird in the days before their deaths. So that left them with little to go off of.

It was late in the day and they were starting to get frustrated. By now they were pretty sure it was a shifter, but where they would find it; they had no clue. Sam was going over maps of the area where each family had been attacked, trying to find some similarities or common ground. Cas was studying the case files more closely, trying to see if there was a detail they hadn't caught the first time. And that left Dean, who was out getting more witness accounts to make sure it was a shifter.

Sam was pulled from his thoughts when Cas suddenly spoke, breaking the quite atmosphere that had descended for the past hour or so. "Did you know all of the families had moved within a month of being killed?"

Sam perked up, turned to face Cas with a furrowed brow. "No, I didn't. You think there's a connection?" He asked.

"I'm not sure," the angel responded, looking over the papers some more. "But maybe they used the same moving company," he proposed. "It would explain how there were no break ins reported and how a shifter could have turned into the spouse."

"Not bad Cas," Sam praised him. It really wasn't. This was a lead. He pulled out his phone and relayed the information to Dean via text. "So if it is the same moving company, we should check to see who works there and see who moved all three of the families' things so we can narrow it down," he said, going to grab his coat. "You coming?"

"If you want me to," he replied.

"Sure, come on."

After a quick meeting with the moving company one of the families' had used, they soon learned that it was the same three that the other two families had used as well. So whatever had happened to them, happened because of one of the workers.

"And who was moving their stuff those days?" Sam asked the owner of the moving company, referring to when the families had moved.

"I'm sure it's in a record in the system somewhere," the man said. "Do you want me to check them?" He offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice at the prospect of doing it.

"That would be great, thanks," Sam said. The man nodded, plodding back to his office in the back of the building. Sam and Cas watched him until he was out of sight. That left the two of them standing there in the reception area with nothing to do.

It was a few minutes before Cas broke the silence. "Sam, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you think that- I mean, I was wondering if you thought- Um." He kept trying to find the right sentence, but nothing seemed to be working. After worrying his lip for a moment, he looked up at Sam with nervous eyes. "Do you think Dean has, feelings for me?"

Oh.

"Um," Sam tried, drawing the word out. He twisted his lip in thought, trying to figure out the right thing to say. If he said yes, than he'd have to admit that he's known all along, even if Dean didn't. But he couldn't lie and say no and hurt the poor guys feelings. "I mean, you guys are pretty close," he tried. "You've known each other for years, but to be honest you should probably ask Dean." Dodged the bullet.

"Oh," Cas said, visibly disheartened.

Sam tried to think of something to say that would cheer Cas up, but never got the chance because the moving company's boss walked up to them with a sheet of paper in hand.

"Agents," he said. "Here's the list of everyone who helped move the three families things. Hope it helps in your investigation."

"Thank you," Sam said in a professional manner. "We appreciate your help." They thanked him and then were off, driving back to the motel together.

"Alright Cas," Sam said once they were on the road. "What's the list say?"

Cas looked over the list in his hand, eyeing the column of names. "There are five names on here, and it includes their phones number and address," he stated. "The only one who worked all three houses was someone named Stephan Jackson."

"Great, where does he live?" Sam asked, turning onto a street.

"3849 Eaton Road N."

"Great, text Dean the address and have him meet us there," Sam told him. "In the mean time, I'm going to get changed into more appropriate clothes." Couldn't hunt monsters in a suit and tie after all.

Dean had texted back later saying it defiantly was a shifter. So after changing, Sam and Cas both grabbed a silver knife and silver bullets for their guns (Dean had given one to Cas after he officially moved in with them), and they were on their way.

They picked Dean up somewhere in the Upper East Side and continued on into the more residential area of the city, where people lived in big fancy houses, which was odd considering the guy they were looking for worked for a moving company. Then again, if the past three murders were anything to go by, the guy stole a bunch of stuff and probably made enough money off of it to be able to afford a nice place. Which begged another question of how many people has he done this to have so much money?

They pulled up in front of 3849 Eaton Road N not long after sunset. All the street lights were on and everyone's Christmas lights were strung up in all their red, green, and icicle glory. The house they were looking at wasn't much different. It had a tree up in what appeared to be the living room and normal red and green lights strung up around the roof. Nothing even remotely special about it.

"You sure this is the place?" dean asked skeptically, closing the impala door behind him after getting out. Sam checked the paper again before looking up.

"Yeah, I'm sure Dean."

"I mean, because that's not what you'd expect a shifter's layer to look like," Dean said.

"They're just like regular people," Sam sighed. "Demented, freaky people, but, people."

Dean shrugged, not really interested in the conversation, and started making his way for the door. "So we know for a fact the guy's a shifter?" He asked, making his way down the walkway towards the door.

"Well, Cas and I are 90% sure, but Cas will know for sure. Right Cas?"

Cas nodded, his eyes fixed on the door with a set look of determination.

"That's a yes," Sam huffed. They had reached the door by now. Dean reached up and knocked on the door before taking a set back and waiting for the owner of the house to answer.

Soon they could see a face bobbing towards them through the bubble glass window. "Shifter," Cas muttered. The boys nodded, but didn't have a chance to reach for the weapons because the door opened. Standing in front of them was a young girl, mid twenties, with dark hair and a mousy face.

"Hi," she said, offering them a smile. "Are you guys here about the heater?"

"Heater?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I called the guy at the shop, he said he would send some guys over to fix it. You them?" She looked them over, almost craning her neck to look them all in the eye. If Sam hadn't known any better, he would have thought they'd just had the wrong house. She didn't appear to have a murderess bone in her tiny body. But a quick glance at Cas and he knew she was really a shifter, judging by his barely concealed glare.

"Yes," Sam said, jumping in. "That's us."

She looked up at them skeptically. "So, where are your tools?" She asked, eyes narrowed.

"Uh, we're just here to look at it and see what's wrong. Then we're going to get our stuff from the car," Dean lied.

"Oh, okay then. Why don't you guys come on in?" She stepped aside to let the three of them in, raising an eyebrow at Cas as he walked past. Sam understood why, not many repair men wore suits and a trench coat to fix someone's faulty heater.

"So, you mind showing us your heater?" Sam inquired.

"Yeah, it's in the attack," she said, walking towards the stairs. "Come on" They followed her up the stairs and into a big loft, with a railing that looked down into the main floor. They were halfway to the attack door when Sam looked over at Dean, reaching for his gun. Dean saw the motion and nodded, reaching for his own, Cas following suit.

Sam was about to fire when the shifter turned around to say something. When she spotted the gun, her eyes went wide. "You're not repair men," she hissed. "You're hunters."

"Surprise," Dean deadpanned. "Although I can fix up a car pretty well too." Now was not the time for a cheesy one liner Dean. Obviously the shifter thought so as well, because the next thing they knew, she had reached over to an end table and threw whatever was on it at them, which consisted of a few books and a lamp.

Before they could react, she tore down the hall, running into one of the rooms. Dean, who had been knocked down from a lamp to the head, got up and ran after her. Cas was hot on his tail with Sam following close behind.

They ran into the room the shifter had gone into, which was the bedroom, only to see her swing a bat at their heads. She managed to whack it against Cas' head, sending him flying into the wall. "Next one to move get's it," she threatened.

Dean, ignoring her threat, ran towards her. He tackled her and they went down onto the ground in a pile of limbs and fists. Sam ran to help, but someone fired Dean's gun which he'd pulled out and it managed to hit Sam's shoulder, throwing him to the ground. He gasped in pain and reached to put pressure on the wound. He could feel blood coming out of the other side as well, so the bullet had gone through his shoulder, but it hadn't hit any of his bones, which was good. The bad part though; was that it now felt like it was on fire.

Dean and the shifter had apparently heard, and that sent Dean into a frenzy. He socked the shifter in the jaw, which knocked her back onto the bed. She picked herself up and threw the first thing she grabbed at him, which were pillows.

He knocked them out of the way and jumped on her, fumbling for his spare knife. She used his stalling to her advantage, hitting him in the sternum and kicking him in the crotch. He dropped like a fly. But that was also the moment Cas had come to, and when the girl pushed Dean off of her after he had fallen on top of her, the angel pushed her against the bed and stabbed the knife right into her chest. She let out a strangled cry before her eyes went dead and she fell limply onto the bed, dead.

Silence.

They were all panting, Sam from pain, Cas from exertion, and Dean also from pain. Except his breathing was strained and higher pitched from being kicked in the nuts.

"Well," Sam gasped. "That went well."

After disposing of the body and patching up Sam's shoulder, they decided to clean the house in case cops got nosy and found some evidence they'd rather not be found. The house was large and spacious, with huge rooms that had hardly any furniture in them. It was very minimalistic. The upstairs was a disaster area after they had finished off the shifter, and the only bed there was totaled. They had cleaned it up the best they could in the hopes of leaving little evidence behind in case the cops ever came snooping. But that also left them with a problem, where to sleep.

It was nearing the early hours of morning when they had finished cleaning up, and all of them (except Cas) were too tired to go anywhere or fight the traffic back to their motel room. So they had decided to crash there for the night. The only problem though, was that the only bed was destroyed and stained with blood and there didn't seem to be another option anywhere else in the house. Well, there was the couch, but that could only fit one person, and Sam had won that round of rock paper scissors. So that left Dean to figure out how where to sleep that wouldn't give him back pain when he woke up. Of course that wasn't easy considering that all the floors were hardwood and there weren't any rugs in the whole house. Damn minimalists.

"I don't know what to say Dean," Sam sighed. "There are a lot of blankets in the house, I'm sure you can make a make-shift bed on the floor," he suggested, his words slow from exhaustion.

"Yeah, and freeze to death because the heaters broken," he snarked. "No thanks."

Sam merely shrugged, wincing at the movement, but exasperated by his brother. It wasn't like he could pull a solution of thin air, he wasn't Gabriel after all. He looked around the living room some more. It was the only room in the house that they could really bed down in, with the upstairs in ruins and the bathroom, kitchen, and dining room being impractical. There wasn't much in the room, except for a couch, a coffee table, and a fire place.

Wait, a fire place! It was freezing in the house because they had broken the heater and there weren't enough blankets for both of them to be both warm and comfortable, something Dean would need if he did end up sleeping on the floor. He was sure they could light and fire in that thing so they wouldn't be shivering through the whole night. Sam proposed the idea to Dean.

"Well," his brother said, worrying his lip. "Not a bad idea Sammy, I'll check to see if there's wood and fire starter or something." He walked off into the house, leaving Sam alone with Cas in the living room. Sam went and grabbed some blankets from the back of the couch and started to set up his make shift bed, spreading the blankets out over the sofa and making sure he pillows were the right amount of fluffy to use.

"So where should I, uh sleep?" Cas asked from behind him. Of course he didn't sleep, but he had to do something at night instead of sit and watch them or Dean would throw a bitch fit. And that normally meant watching TV or using Dean's computer, but both of those options were out because the only TV in the house was the one in the living room and Dean's computer was back at the motel, so that left Cas with nothing to do.

"Uh," Sam tried, looking around the room some to find something for Cas. "I don't know, maybe ask Dean?" he shrugged, helpless.

"Ask me what?" Dean cut in, having jus alked back into the room.

"Where I should stay for the night," Cas answered.

"Bedroom?" Dean suggested, setting the wood down on the hearth and starting to set it up in the fireplace.

"It's destroyed," the angel deadpanned.

"Then I don't know what to tell you," he sighed, leaning further into the fireplace to fix the wood. Cas sighed in frustration, narrowing his eyes in thought. He was still in that position after Dean had lit the fire and started to set up a make-shift bed. But he paused for a moment after appearing to try and figure something out.

"Damn," he muttered.

"What?" Sam asked from the couch. He was now laying down on his good side and didn't intend on getting up anytime soon, so he couldn't see what Dean was frustrated about.

"There aren't enough blankets," he grumbled. Sam frowned. Surely that wasn't right. He had helped bring them down so he knew how many there were.

"What do you mean?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, I don't exactly want to wake up with neck pain," Dean explained. "And I can't do that and have enough blankets to keep warm."

Through his sluggish brain, Sam managed to think of a solution to the problem, and the problem of what Cas was going to do for the night, one that involved Cas of course, seeing as he was still standing there trying to figure out what to do for the night. "Just have Cas lay next to you. I'm sure he's like the angel equivalent of a hot water bottle." Brilliant. Wonderful plan.

The only response he got however, was silence.

"Hell no."

God dean, why did you have to be so stubborn. Just swallow your pride and let Cas spoon you! That was what Sam wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut. "Fine, then freeze." He closed his eyes after that, signaling that he was done with the conversation.

He heard Dean rock back and forth on his feet for a second, his face probably one of indecisiveness. Then he heard, "Fine, asshole." And then a rustling of sheets. Sam opened an eye to see what had happened, and was elated to find Dean lying on the blankets with Cas next to him, an arm draped over loosely over the hunter and trench coat covering them both. The last thought Sam had before falling asleep was, _'man I wish I had a camera'._


	11. Pie

Cas had never had a better night. Well, that one time he had had sex with April was pretty good, up until she stabbed him. But yet, that didn't seem to come close to this night. And all he did was hold Dean close to him. At first the man had been tense, reluctant to even let Cas near him, but grudgingly letting him. Then he had loosened and relaxed, easing into Cas' body for warmth. And when he had fallen asleep, he had even scooted closer, body to body.

Cas could feel his breathing, slow and even. He could feel his heart beat from where his hand now lay draped across his chest, almost touching his other shoulder. And he could feel his own heart pick up at the sensation. It felt like home.

The fire had turned into a smoldering pile of coals in the early hours of the morning, throwing a soft amber glow over everything. He could see Dean's features clearly in the lighting. His nose, which bent a little to the side, his eye lashes, which were long and dark, his lips, full and pink, and each individual freckle. Castiel had the sudden urge to kiss each one, but he stopped himself. Dean would hate him if he did that, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Instead, he continued to stare at the sleeping man, memorizing every freckle, scar, and blemish on his face. And even with all his flaws, he was still the most beautiful thing he had ever come across in all of creation. And he had seen a lot. His hand absently traced the tattoo across Dean's chest with one hand, while the other brushed through his hair. He felt Dean breathe a soft sigh and sink into his touch. Cas felt a smile pull at his lips as he did.

He stroked his hand down the hunters' hairline and to his neck, tracing the skin with his knuckle. His hand made its way slowly down and around his neck. Cas heard a soft hum come from Dean as he did it. He froze or a moment, fearing that he had awoken him, but instead Dean just nuzzled his head lightly against his chest, as if seeking out the affection that had suddenly stopped. Cas smiled softly again, a hot feeling rising in his chest as he resumed the action, this time pulling Dean just a little closer to him, if that was even possible at that point. He felt Dean respond, but only slightly, managing to worm his body into a better passion to fit himself against Cas, like a jigsaw puzzle. Cas could honestly say this moment was one of the best he'd had with the brothers. Or possibly ever.

All the millennia spent on earth and the one thing that could shake his belief of everything was one man. How could one human do such a thing? Well, Dean was more than just a human. He was the righteous man. And not because he had sold his soul for his brother's life, but because of who he was. He was so selfless, never thinking for himself, and yet, so flawed and broken. A patchwork mess of scars and regret. But at the same time he was the definition of humanity for Castiel. He was perfect, because he was imperfect. And that's why he always felt something swirling deep in his stomach whenever he saw him.

He remembered he had spoken to Sam about it earlier, about if Dean did have feelings for him or not. He wasn't too well versed on expressions of human emotions, but he was fairly sure the way he and Dean acted towards each other extended being the realm of what a normal friendship was classified as. But Sam had said he didn't know, and Sam knew his brother better than anyone alive. The state was disheartening for Castiel, but he couldn't help but wonder… Maybe Dean did feel something. It showed in the way he would smile at something Castiel had said. Or when he would stand a little too close to be casual. Or especially when he went out of his way to do something that wasn't necessary, like let Castiel live in the bunker, or bring him a candy cane, or really anything that Castiel didn't even need. But he would always follow through because he knew Dean would be happy if he did.

The embers had all faded out now, throwing the house into shadow again, with only a faint red glow coming from them. He felt Dean shiver slightly beneath him and pulled him closer for warmth. Castiel didn't get cold; he was an angel after all. But humans, as he remembered, did. They were quite fragile, and yet, amazing creators. He was glad to be amongst them. Or more specifically, one.

Hours later the sun had risen, casting a gray light into the freezing house. Dean had woken up first, Cas could tell because his heart rate and breathing had picked up. But for some reason, he didn't move from his spot next to Cas. Not that Castiel minded of course, he would have been happy to stay in that position for hours longer, but Sam woke up not long after Dean did and suggested they get going. And so they did.

They went back to the motel to retrieve their things and soon were on the road again, heading back to the bunker. Dean hadn't brought up last night, not that Castiel had expected him to, but he could have sworn he saw Sam throwing them glances every now and then.

Soon enough, they stopped for gas at a Gas N' Sip somewhere in Pennsylvania, all of them hopping out of the car to stretch their legs. Cas decided to follow Sam into the store when he said he was going to buy a few snacks for the road. Inside the Gas N' Sip was much warmer than outside, at least Castiel assumed so because Sam let out a big sigh and rubbed his hands together for warmth.

"Want anything Cas?" Sam asked, turning to the angel.

"No thank you," Cas responded, looking around the store. The reason he had gone into the store wasn't for him, but for Dean. He wanted to get him something, something he knew he would like. He had heard somewhere that that's what you did on Christmas after all, giving loved one's presents. If so, he wanted to do just that.

"Alright, suit yourself," Sam shrugged, walking off to the bathroom, leaving Cas alone in the store with one other customer and the sales clerk. He walked up and down the aisles, searching for something, anything, Dean would like. At last, he found it. Pie. A smile pulled at his face as he remembered the last time he tried to buy pie for Dean. But that was after they'd had a fight and he was trying to make it up to him. This time he just wanted to give him something. He checked the price on the plastic box, making sure he had enough money before purchasing it. After doing so, he waited until Sam was finished with his business before following hi out to the car.

Dean had finished refueling it by then and was waiting inside. Sam got in the front, and Cas in the back, as per usual. But before Dean started up the engine, Cas cleared his throat, getting his attention.

"I, uh, bought you something, Dean," he said, holding up the pie for dean to see. Dean's eyes lit up upon seeing it, and Cas could swear he smiled a little.

"Thanks Cas, I look forward to having it. Looks great."

Cas smiled. _'So do you'_ , he wanted to say. But maybe it was best that he didn't. One day maybe, but not yet.


	12. Snowman

"Hey Dean," Sam said, trying to keep the smile off his face. Dean only grunted to show he was listening. Sam bit his lip before asking, "Do you, do want to build a snowman?"

The response was a book flying through the air, and hitting Sam in the chest. Sam burst into laughter, unable to restrain himself any more. It had been snowing hard in the town they were holed up in, covering everything with perfect packing snow, and Sam had already seen snow forts going up in the neighborhood.

"Shut up," Dean scolded, but Sam kept laughing. "Wasn't even a good movie," he added under his breath.

Sam chuckled at his brother's attitude, turning back to his laptop, which he was using to look for cases. So far the wi-fi had been slow, probably due to the snow, and so far all he had turned up was a few possible ghosts hunts that where all the way across the country. Not really worth their time. Not to mention they were also snowed in.

The only problem though, was that Dean was starting to get cabin fever, as was Sam. The TV was starting to get boring, and they'd run out of pay-per-view. The only thing that was keeping them sane was looking for cases, and even that was starting to wear thin.

"Come on," Sam tried again. "No cases are popping up, the wi-fi's shot, and we're all getting cabin fever," he listed. "Might as well take advantage of the weather." Most of what he said was true, they were getting cabin fever and wouldn't last much longer in the cramped room. Sam himself was practically climbing the walls. But there was one part he had left out, specifically the one where he puts Dean and Cas in romantic situations and hopes for the best. So far his plan had been going well, but he may have to pick up the pace a bit if they kept going on this trajectory.

Dean stared at him in silence, pondering his words. Finely, he let out a sigh and shut his laptop, standing up and grabbing his coat. "Come on Cas, want to come outside?"

Sam made a small victory smile before grabbing his own coat as well. He heard Cas accept the offer and they all left the room together.

The town they were staying in was just a few hours from Lebanon. They would have kept driving on yesterday but were forced to stop when the road conditions became literally impossible to drive on. They had been forced to pull over and bed down for the night. They had been cooped up in the motel ever since. Now it was later afternoon. Snowflakes still drifted down from the steely sky, and the roads were still covered in the white stuff. But the scene it created was almost joyful. The towns Christmas lights were all strung up and glittering merrily, casting a festive charm over it. Children were running around in a park nearby, throwing snowballs at each other and building forts and snowmen.

Sam started walking over to the park, intrigued by the sight. He had never done that as a kid, but he had always wanted too. Now he was standing at the edge of the parks large field, his feet almost a foot deep in snow.

"Did you drag us out of our warm motel room to watch kids? That's kind of creepy Sam," Dean commented, stepping up to his brother.

"What, no," Sam cried, disgusted. "No I just, I remembered that we never really did that as kids," he admitted, gazing wistfully at the children as they played and laughed. "Kinda wish we had, you know." They lapsed back into silence, all standing in the snow as flakes drifted down onto their coats and their breath steamed in front of them.

"Well," Dean started uncertainly. "Better late than never, right?"Sam frowned and turned back to look at Dean, confused. "Let's make a snowman," he shrugged, bending down and packing some snow into a ball before rolling it on the ground. The older hunter looked back up at the two other men before saying, "You guy's going to help me or just make me look like an idiot?"

Sam smiled and joined his brother on the ground, helping to pack some more snow for the base of the snowman. Cas stood behind them, uncertain of what to do. He narrowed his eyes as he watched the brother pack and roll snow. The scene confused him, but he wasn't about to object to it though, it must be another strange human custom. He joined them in the snow and, with Dean's instruction, began rolling the middle of the snowman. He wasn't so good at it.

Sam finished rolling up the bottom while Dean started on the head and set it up in a nice flat space, packing the snow until it was all hard and even. He looked to Cas as he rolled his snowball through the snow, watching as it occasionally crumpled because he wasn't packing it right. Shaking his head, he stood up, dusting off his knees, and went to Dean.

"Hey Dean," he started.

"Hm," Dean hummed absently, focusing on his snowball.

"I'm going to find some rocks and sticks for our snowman. Maybe you should help Cas out with his snowball. He's not doing so hot." Dean looked up to see what Sam was talking about. Sam wasn't sure exactly what Cas was doing at the moment, but from Dean's pitying expression, it must not have been good.

"Yeah, I'll go help him. You go find the sticks," he said, standing up and brushing the snow off his pants, not that it helped much. Sam nodded and started walking away towards the tree line, but keeping an eye on the two behind him. He watched Dean saunter over to Cas and get down on the ground next to him, appearing to be talking to him. Cas stopped what he was doing and listened intently, occasionally nodding. Eventually he got up and helped Dean roll the rest of it, picking it up when he was done and holding it out proudly for Dean to see. Sam could see Dean nod his approval, catching a flash of white teeth as he smiled.

By now Sam had stopped walking and was just watching the two. He was sick of seeing the sexual tension, but this was different. This was more intimate. Well, more than what they usually do anyways. He watched as Dean helped the angel position the snowball on top of Sam's and pack it in place with more snow. Dean was smiling and laughing at something Cas had just said, laughing with all his body and nearly falling into the snow. Sam smiled warmly at the sight. Never had he really seen Dean like that, not until he had met Cas anyways.

When Dean looked up at him though, he remembered that he was supposed to be looking for sticks and rocks instead of watching the two be love struck puppies. He hurried to grab some sticks from the ground and a handful of pinecones and rocks and hurried back to the two.

"Looks great," he breathed, out of breathe from running to them.

"Yep," Dean agreed. Now all it needs is sticks and stones."

Sam handed them over to Dean, who stuck them in their respective places. Then they all took a step back to admire their work.

"Not bad," Dean said.

"I wouldn't know," Cas deadpanned, cocking his head to the side. "But yes, it is aesthetically pleasing."

Sam had to agree. For once, what they made didn't look like shit. The snow man was nicely proportioned, sitting in spherical tiers with a face made of rocks and a smile made of pinecones. All in all, it was a good snowman.

"Sort of wish we had a pipe," Dean muttered under his breath. Sam let out a barking laugh at the reference while Cas just squinted in confusion.

"Why would you need a pipe?" He asked, staring intensely at Dean.

"It's a-" Dean started, but seemed to change his mind halfway through. Instead, he smiled warmly and threw an arm around the angel. "You know what, I'll tell you later. Come on," and they all started walking back to the motel in the twilight glow, wet, cold, and very happy.


	13. Shopping

"Dean, I don't understand, what are we doing?" Cas asked, following Dean out of the car.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like we're going to enter a crowded shopping center," he deadpanned. They were standing on the edge of a crowded parking lot in a town a few miles from Lebanon, having left Sam in the bunker saying that they were simply running a few errands. Cas had figured out that wasn't the case the minute they hit the freeway.

"Yeah, Cas, it's called Christmas shopping," Dean said, heading towards the mall. He didn't wait to see if Cas had started to follow, knowing the angel was anyway.

"But why didn't we bring Sam?"

"Because then it would ruin the surprise."

"How?" The angel asked.

"Well," the hunter started. "Normally when you buy someone a present you don't want to bring them along."

"So we're buying a present for Sam?" Cas clarified.

"Yes. We're getting Sam a Christmas present. For the first time in twenty-five years, we're getting him a present. Now will you stop asking questions and just help me. Please?"

The angel looked the man over, noting the faint look of desperation in his eyes. Dean was scared. He hadn't done something like this in forever, and he wanted to do it right. He needed help. "Do you know what he wants?" Cas asked.

"Probably a book or something. The guy's always reading," he postulated.

"That's a good start," Cas said, looking back at the mall. "We should get going then."

The two started towards the mall, making their way through the crowded parking lot. They had finely arrived at Lebanon that morning after fighting through the weather from yesterday. The snow had mostly melted so it was easier to drive safely. After Dean had dropped Sam off at the bunker, he'd said he had to run some errands and insisted that Cas go with him. The angel of course didn't protest one bit. And now they were about to enter a crowded mall in the peak of the holiday season together and shop for a thirty two year old man. Dean had no idea what to do. He remembered when he had tried to get out and do this earlier, but it had snowed so much he never got the chance. That was why he'd been acting so odd before they'd tried to clear the snow from their road. Not that they'd gotten very far with that though.

The mall itself was extremely crowded and noisy. Dean had always made it a point to stay away from places like these during the holiday season, so it was a shock to suddenly be in the middle of it. He immediately reached for Cas' hand in search of assurance that the angel wouldn't be lost to him in the crowds. He could feel his blue gaze turn to him in question, but he didn't return it, instead looking for somewhere to start on their quest for a present.

"There's a directory up there," Dean announced, nodding his head towards the glowing billboard a few yards away from them. "Come on, let's check it out." He dragged Cas over with him, still holding his hand, to see it.

First things first, there were a lot of shops. Three floors, a bazillion bathroom, a food court and play house for kids, and way too many escalators. Yeah, this was going to be a fun day, not. Dean sighed, overwhelmed. Cas must have heard it though, because he felt him give his hand a reassuring squeeze. He knew he should have felt embarrassed by it, holding a grown man's hand and all, but he just found it comforting. Of course that didn't still mean he had a growing blush on his cheeks, but that was beside the point. Dean squeezed back, acknowledging the consolation. He took a deep breath and focused back on the directory, his eyes landing on a Barnes and Noble. Sam liked books; maybe they should head there first. Dean voiced his thoughts to Castiel, who agreed and they headed on their way.

They passed stores with displays of Christmas trees and candy canes, Salvation Army bell ringers, kids in line to have a seat on Santa's lap, and almost a thousand actual Christmas trees, all lit up and decorated. Which reminded Dean, they had to get started on decorating their tree, seeing as they hadn't yet.

They were stopped for food at the food court when they heard a little kid's voice behind them. "Mommy, why are those two men holding hands?"

Dean felt the heat rising in his face, the embarrassment and shame that he was about to be ridiculed in public. God, it had been stupid to grab Cas' hand in the first place. What had he been thinking? He was about to let go when he heard the mother answer.

"Because they're boyfriends, dear," she said calmly, as if she were explaining why 2+2=4. "So they hold each other's hand to show they love each other." The blush was not going away on Dean's face.

"So boys can like boys like they like girls?" The boy asked.

"You bet."

"Can I like boys too?" he asked, his high pitched voice cheerful and happy.

"You sure can," the mother said, most likely smiling.

"Can I like girls too?"

"Yep."

Wait, what? You were gay or you weren't, right?

"That's called bisexual."

Okay, Dean had to call Charlie about that. She was practically the queen of all things gay. If anyone knew about something like that, it was her. Dean cast a sidelong glance at Cas to see what his reaction about the exchange was. But he couldn't read anything through his stony expression as the angel looked forward. Dean swallowed the lump of nerves that had built in his throat and focused on the problem at hand, like what to order for lunch.

They had been up and down the mall almost two times now, and Dean still hadn't found anything good. Barnes and Noble had been good, but there hadn't been much that really struck him as SAM. Now they were checking out an old miscellanies store that they hadn't been in before. The kind with old junk from the seventies and onward. It was defiantly interesting, but Dean wasn't sure if they were going to find what he was looking for. But then again, to find something, you sort of had to know what he you were looking for in the first place.

Something meaningful that he would like. Something simple. He remembered how Cas had bought him that pie a few days ago. He had eaten it that night, savoring every bite. It had been a good pie. Of course it tasted just like any other shitty pie you buy at a convenience store, but somehow it was just, better. It was a simple gift, but it had meant a lot. So that was what he needed to get for Sam.

Now what did he like? Well, books for one. Also dogs, but no way was Dean getting one of those for him. Too much hassle. What else? Maybe an iPod so he could listen to his own music. A new laptop, like the ones with the touch screen and keyboard? But those were super expensive, so that was a no go. Dean looked over to Cas for help, but the angel was busy admiring a display of records in the corner. Dean smiled absently at the sight, watching as Cas stared at the vinyl's, inspecting the covers and reading the backs. It was almost comical, an angel of the lord holding a Led Zeppelin album. It reminded hi of when he and Cas had gone to Hot Topic to get Claire a present. That had been an interesting trip.

"The Beatles?" He heard Cas say. Dean snapped out of his brooding and looked up at where Cas had spoken. The man was holding a Beatles record with a scrunched up look of confusion on his face, something that seemed to happen quite frequently. "Why would someone name their band after an insect from ancient Egypt?" He pondered.

"Not beetles, Cas," Dean said in clarification. "Beatles, with an 'A'. And don't ask me why, the seventies were weird." Cas raised an eyebrow dryly, but remained silent. Dean just grabbed the album from his hand and walked back to put it away. But before he put it back on the shelf, he saw one of the songs listed on the album's back. It was Hey Jude.

Emotion boiled up in Dean's chest. Mary had sang that song to him and Sam as a lullaby when they were kids, when she was still alive. It was her favorite song. And even after all these years Dean still knew it by heart. The thought brought a sad smile to his lips. Sam had never experienced this though. He'd never had something from his mom that he could carry with him. Well, not until now, as Dean decided on a present. He knew what he was getting Sam for Christmas, and this album was one he would.

"Hey Cas," he called to his friend. Cas looked up from a display stand for old books. "I think I found one."


End file.
